


A Ghost in my Lungs

by sansapotter



Category: Lumatere Chronicles - Melina Marchetta
Genre: F/M, Pillow Talk, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansapotter/pseuds/sansapotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Charyn added the kindling. They could pretend, even for a short time that answered only to each other. She worried that when they returned things would go back to the way they were. By the way Lucian started to pull at the laces of her dress, she knew she would have to worry any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ghost in my Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I come from a fandom where we write lot's of smut for each other, because what's better than that?

She had expected to go to her Queen’s bonding ceremony alone. Lucian rarely strayed too far from the Mountain, and every time he did his return brought more problems than Phaedra thought possible. One such time they stayed at the palace overnight, and when they returned before midday they were faced with _seven_ different problems that only her husband could solve. She was resigned to the idea of going without him. 

It was their affection for Phaedra that had them sending Lucian down the mountain along with her, at least that’s what he told her. The party they traveled in was large Lord August’s family from the Flatlands, along with Harker and Jorja from the Valley. It was the first night at the inn, between Alonso and Jidia that Phaedra noticed a difference in him. Her heart sped again to think of that night, when he spoke to her. Though the speaking wasn’t new, he spoke gently when they were abed, or he tried to. That night he whispered filthy things to her in the gruff voice he used in their bed.

She tried to stay awake, but still ended up falling asleep at the table dreaming of that voice, and those heated words. They’d parted ways at the base of the Mountain, and she spent the afternoon visiting in the Valley, and at Yata’s. When Phaedra woke she was wrapped in Lucian’s fleece, as he across from her eating from the dish Yata had sent Phaedra away with. “Fire died,” he said gruffly when she shrugged his coat off. 

“Everything sorted?” She moved to hang it over a hook. He grunted a response she understood to be affirmative. Sitting beside him she took his hand and leaned against his shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me.” 

“You had fun,” he answered, as though that could justify any action. 

She tried to rock him with her shoulder, failing, “besides you were happy to see your kinsman… that is you were happy to see Froi.” 

“Fair point.” He smiled, nudging her back. Stretching up she kissed his cheek,

“And I think you made an ally with the Turlans,” she started to laugh. Mort found her husband to be a worthy adversary. She knew she would never see her husband as he was before his father died, but watching him circle the Turlan egged on by Froi’s taunts, she thought she might have caught a glimpse of the man he was before. 

“He thought he was stronger than me.” Lucian scoffed, “and you-“

“I couldn’t be a good judge,” she shook her head adamantly, “I’d pick you for a victor over almost anyone.” She yelped when he scooped her up, and the fire cast a soft glow into their room; he set her on the bed and kissed her fiercely. Maybe Charyn added the kindling. They could pretend, even for a short time that answered only to each other. She worried that when they returned things would go back to the way they were. By the way Lucian started to pull at the laces of her dress, she knew she would have to worry any more. From his hastened movements she realized he had tightened the knots instead of loosening them. 

She understood what he was about to do just before it happened. Then with a rip the top of her dress was opened and only her shift remained. “Sorry,” he mistook her breathlessness for fear moving to pull away but she reached back up for him. With effort they managed to ruck her dress down to the floor. 

Phaedra propped herself up when he tossed his shirt to the side, the way he moved toward her might have frightened her in the past; she could see the desire in his predatory stare. With the sleeves of her shift pulled down, and her hair mused she must have looked debauched; nonetheless, he looked at her like she might have been a goddess. 

His bare chest was warm against hers, he was always so warm. “Are you happy here?” His hand held hers above her head, and his pupils blown. He was as breathless as she was, but the crease of his brow let her know he wanted an answer. 

“Do I seem unhappy?” And it was such an odd question to respond to, laying beneath her husband, pleasantly breathless. His roughened hand flexed in hers, and he smiled softly dropping his head down to kiss her again. 

“Can I try something?” Lucian asked against her lips. He released her hand, bringing it down to trace the fullness of her breast. She shivered arching to his touch, and looking at him through her lashes she nodded. 

“Can I ask what you want to try?” Her eyes fluttered when he kissed her neck. There was little warning when he pulled her astride him, even less when he whispered into her ear. Over the week there’d been a quick _turn this way_ , or a _leg up here, that’s my girl_. Never was there a warning such as this.

“From what I’m told you’ll like this one,” he promised, reaching down take the hem of her shift. She followed his movements, lifting her hips, he tugged the straps of the shift to the side, pushing it beneath her breasts. It was difficult to be stern when he moved his other hand up her hip to run his thumb along the underside of her breast. Phaedra stretched up to catch his mouth, content to have a place in his bed, and heart, no games necessary. “There’s no pretending to this one, you just have to trust me.”

“I can do that,” she promised, and she did try to keep her nerves even when he kissed her breastbone, her hip, the inside of her knee. She jerked when his left hand grasped her thigh, holding it firm. It was only when his right hand mirrored the motion that she lifted her head from the pillow and murmured his name.

“Are you ok?” His dark eyes flitted to hers, his thumb traced a circle on her inner thigh, much the same way he traced the smooth skin between her thumb and forefinger earlier that day. Somehow his gaze made her tremble more.

“I don’t think this is something people do Lucian,” when he touched her he would kiss her, she was sure he wasn’t meant to be close to that part of her. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked huskily, and it was knowing he would without a second thought that had her shaking her head and easing back into the mattress, fisting the bedclothes. His thumbs crept closer to the place she wanted him most, but he made no urgent movements, if anything he moved slower than she’s ever known him to do. His hand crept up her thigh and she could feel it _there_. “You’re pretty,” he said.

“What?” 

“Down here, I mean.” She felt her face flush at that. “I never noticed,” she felt his fingers, that was familiar. He tried hard to make up for those first nights, he tried often, finding that spot that made her gasp. The only difference from every other evening was the press of his cheek against her thigh. 

Suddenly that weight was gone, and he kissed the inside of her thigh. The movement of his fingers didn’t falter, and Phaedra kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, having him so close to that part of her made her pulse quicken, whether from desire or shyness she was still unsure. 

Then his mouth took the place of his fingers, and she yelped flattening her heel against his shoulder. It was obscene the way he looked up at her, wordlessly asking if she was ok. Nodding she dropped her head back, she certainly couldn’t look at him while he did such a thing. Surely whoever put this idea in his head was trying to mislead him.

She couldn’t imagine such a thing was enjoyable for her husband. Gathering her courage she chanced a look down, and reached to stroke his face. He hummed against her, a contented sound she’d heard hundreds of times before, and it was for her, because of her. 

He worked for her gasps, and each time she breathed his name he redoubled his efforts. Her her crisis came over her like a wave, she felt it in the tips of her toes, she babbled nonsense until she was only left catching her breath; she came undone catching his hand in hers, and she wondered why no one had spoken of such a thing in the cave.

“Oh,” she said finally when he came to rest beside her.

Phaedra felt her heartbeat slow under her hand. The rough saw of Lucian’s breath filled the room as he fell back beside her, and she wondered why no one had spoken of such a thing in the cave. Where had Lucian learned such a thing? He swore he wouldn’t trust Finnikin’s advice after the last time, but no one else dared to give Lucian advice for their spousal bed. 

“Are you alright?” He wondered moving his arm behind her head. She looked at him from the corner of her eye with a bashful smile. He pressed a kiss to her temple and she became aware of the errant strands of hair that clung to her forehead. She couldn’t find the words to reply so she just hummed, _alright indeed_.

Lucian’s grip on her shoulder had her turning onto her side, pressing her chin into his chest. “Who taught you that?” She asked into his skin, peering up at him through her lashes. His eyes were closed contentedly, fingers ran over her shoulder gently as they could. “Lucian?” She shifted, rolling to her belly, sprawling across his chest.

“Can’t say,” 

_Oh_ , suddenly she was aware of her nakedness, squirming from his grasp she pulled her shift back up. Everything they tried came with an explanation, a brief _I’ve always wanted to try that_ or an _I heard the guards talk about that forever ago._ She couldn’t imagine what a _can’t say_ meant, but it made her so achingly self-conscious; she hadn’t felt such a way since they’d first married. 

With his eyes still closed Lucian didn’t notice the change in her demeanor, when she pulled the quilt up to her chin she heard him mumble, “you cold?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled turning away from him, wrapping the blanket around herself. 

“C’mere,” the bed sank and settled as he shifted, rolling onto his side. His nose brushed against the shell of her ear where he kissed her softly. “I don’t ever want to leave this bed.” 

She made a sound of agreement, because it was nice before she realized he’d probably learned to do that in someone’s bed. _I’ll not be jealous_ , she promised herself, _or cross_ , though he’d never tried to keep a secret from her before. They’d kept enough from each other in the past, and Lucian was always more likely to blurt out a secret than to keep one.

His rough fingers were still stroking her side, giving her good shivers. His hand brushed the hair from her neck and pressed his mouth to her shoulder, nosing the thin strap of her shift to the side. She turned her head, kissing him easily because no matter how cross she was she loved this side of him. It didn’t help much that this was the side that only she got to see.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting his head to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. Only she couldn’t get the vision of him kneeling before some faceless girl, doing that thing with his mouth, and he wouldn’t admit into it because he thought it would upset her. Would knowing make it any different? Or perhaps it was the evasion itself, so out of character, that had her worried.

“Are you happy here?” He asked again, in an unfamiliar tone. 

“Impossibly happy,” and she meant it despite the ache of jealousy. “Why do you ask?”

“I just don’t get to see you like that often. Like you were at the castle.”

“I like going home,” Phaedra answered, “I was happy that you came with me. You were different there too.” She said, “not that you aren’t wonderful here, but in Charyn there was something- I’m not sure how to describe it, you were just Lucian I suppose.”

“And you were Phaedra of Alonso, beloved companion of the Queen Mother.”

“I like being your Phaedra more than all that,” she sighed rolling back into him. He hummed, a deep rumble that she felt under her cheek. “I did like other things though,”

“Other things?”

“You know,” she pressed, “other things.” She couldn’t bring herself to actually describe the things they’d done in Charyn, what they’d just done in their bed, but she wanted to do them again. He was frowning teasingly at her, so she stretched up and whispered a reminder into his ear. All teasing fell away from his face, replaced by a wolfish grin.

“Ah, other things.” His hand moved through her hair, down her back. “Do you feel like trying one of those out in _our_ bed?”

She did, “just not anything else you learned from some unnamed woman.”

“What?” and he was back onto his elbows. “Do you mean earlier? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“No,” she answered too quickly.

“The suggestion was given with a threat of certain death if I were to say something,” Lucian explained. “Besides I love _you_.” 

“Certain death?” Any thought she might have had slipped away. When he realized she was holding to the revelation he sighed.

“You can’t say anything,” he said softly and she nodded, _who would I tell?_ she wanted to ask, because it seemed for all his talk the men of Lumatere talked more about their beds than the women of Charyn. He sighed. “It was Perri.”

“What?” She squeaked, clasping her hands over her mouth. He nodded in response.

“I might have spoken to him, forever ago mind you, and he might think I still can’t please you.” He looked over to her. “So he gave me a suggestion, recently, around the time we left. Then said if I told anyone he’d kill me.”

“Oh,” she said, face reddening, “but that means-“

“Exactly why I don’t think he wants anyone to know.” He pinched her arm, “so now you know, and there’s nothing for you to be jealous about.”

“I wasn’t jealous.” She protested.

“Ok,” he agreed, not believing her. “Do you still feel up for another go?”

“I do,” she agreed, helping him discard the shift entirely. He pulled her astride him, tracing his fingers over her, though she’d long been ready. From her position she could admire him in the pale light of the moon that slipped in from the shutters. Charyn had given them something new, but she wouldn’t trade this for the world. “I’m happy we’re home Lucian.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://www.sansapotter.tumblr.com).
> 
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> title from _I'm not calling you a Liar_ by Florence + The Machine


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